And I Laugh
by LSL and rubberducky64
Summary: A collection of vignettes from Sirius's point of view, detailing his relationship with Remus Lupin and the other Marauders. Very bleak. SBRL. By LSL
1. Laugh

I remember the day I stood there on the blown apart street, laughing at how Peter got away, thirteen dead, not counting James and Lily. I remember you – apparating after hearing I was arrested and how you watched as they took me away. I had never seen hate in your eyes before, though anger had burned in them many times before.

Though that was the saddest day of my life, I laughed. You always said laughter could make anything go away, but it didn't make those amber eyes burning holes in me like acid disappear. You would never forgive me for what I had done, what I was thought to have done.

In Azkaban, I quickly learned how to behave, when to speak, when to laugh. I laughed often. My inmates moaned and screamed, cried or howled with rage, but not I – no, I laughed. I laughed at the irony of it all. You fell in love with me because I had done something evil, and now you hated me for the very same reason. Life is a tricky thing, you know, but I suppose it all works out in the end.

They all thought I was crazy, rather, they expected me to be crazy. Maybe I was. I don't know for sure. But I certainly acted the part. In my sleep I would dream of you, your amber eyes burning with hate, and every night as the moon shone through my pitiful excuse for a window, I laughed as I remembered you in all your hateful glory.

I knew I was innocent, I knew I would see you again and that you would still hate me for leaving, hate me for killing those people even when I hadn't, hate me for everything, for living, for breathing, for simply existing. But when I did see you, and you saved me, I saw there wasn't hate in your eyes any more. There was pity. Not for yourself, but for me.

It was the pity that hurt the most, I think.

And when you embraced me, I laughed. The moon was out, and I saw through its filtered light every shred of hatred that had left your eyes. And even now, as I lie in wait to see you again, I laugh at the moon still.

They caught me again, you see. And when I'd laugh, they'd point and go see? I told you he'd be back. He is crazy, he is!

This time, I know I will not escape and see you, no, not in this lifetime. So I laugh at this, and I laugh as I see the moon hating me with your hate, and I laugh as I dream, dreaming of your eyes, one now filled with pity and the other filled with a burning hatred.

And I laugh.

And I laugh.


	2. Skin

I remember when we were boys, how we would lie awake for hours, just laying there, careful not to make any noise in case James or Peter were still awake. I remember the cold, smooth feel or the pale skin on your shoulder, how your back would rise and fall with the gentle motion of your breathing. I never could see your face; you were facing away from me, your almost naked body folding to fit the curves of mine. My arms were wrapped around you under the bedcovers, keeping you warm.

I would kiss that soft skin of your and would feel your face grow hot – I always made you blush when I kissed you, always, no matter how old we were. I would stroke your soft brown hair and whisper faintly in your ear how much I loved you, and you would touch my hand ever so lightly in affectionate response.

You never got the chance to hold me like I held you for those nights, and I laugh sometimes as I imagine you laying in your own frigid bed, craving with a passionate hunger to be back under the covers in my four poster, enveloped in my embrace.

I laugh as I see you tossing and turning, trying to make believe you were in my arms again, with me caressing you and whispering sweet things.

James and Peter never caught us at it, mainly because James snored like a wild boar and Peter always mumbled in his sleep. Once James came awful close to seeing us entangled in the sheets, undressed save for the occasional pair of boxers.

We had become a little too lustful, hadn't we? I had said one too many things and you got excited, yes, you remember. You turned around to kiss me on the mouth, and you knocked over the lamp next to us with a loud crash! James woke up instantly, and I thought you were going to have a heart attack; your pulse was beating so rapidly.

But he saw it was the lamp and in his adrenaline induced awareness he didn't see there were one too many bulges under the covers of my bed, and too few in yours.

That was one of our finest nights, I daresay.

I howled with laughter for weeks remembering the look on your face when James was staring around.

But you made sure we didn't have any more incidents like that anymore – you refused to be there with me for days afterward, making sure the incident had blown over totally. I could hear you in your own bed, writhing under the covers never finding a comfortable position because my arms were not there to guide you.

How you deserved it, I laughed, how you deserved it.


End file.
